


Our Little Lives Count (at least a bit, sometimes)

by enjolras_lexa



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables (Dallas 2014), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Depressed Enjolras, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enjolras Is Bad At Feelings, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Grantaire Is Bad At Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, I Tried, Kissing, M/M, Modern Era, POV Grantaire, Sad with a Happy Ending, Suicidal Thoughts, Trans Enjolras, but supportive, more likely than you'd think (see note)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-10 19:02:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20856701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enjolras_lexa/pseuds/enjolras_lexa
Summary: E isn't as effortlessly stoic as R thinks he is. R has his own problems but is good at comforting. R finds out that E is human and E finds out that R makes excellent tea.





	Our Little Lives Count (at least a bit, sometimes)

**Author's Note:**

> I'll update my WIP's eventually I swear
> 
> If you want an explanation for this look at the end notes. Also: i project onto fictional characters, how about you?
> 
> Content warning for unhealthy feelings about one's own mental illness + lots of sadness 
> 
> There's fluff and kisses too I promise
> 
> I don't usually write from R's pov so hopefully this is ok

Grantaire was good at things. Sometimes (every day) he needed to remind himself of that, but he was in fact useful at least some of the time. First and foremost, he was good at taking care of Enjolras.

He could cajole Enjolras into taking a break from his work, especially when it was after 3am. He could remind him to change out of his binder when he’d been wearing it for too long. He could bring him coffee, made just the way he liked it, when he needed energy for working or studying. Grantaire still felt pretty powerless about Enjolras’ dysphoria, seeing as he had never experienced it himself, but he could still bring him a big hoodie or a hot water bottle for cramps and remind him that he would be starting T very soon and everything was going to get better, which wasn’t something you heard Grantaire say very often but maybe he was changing. He could even get him to eat and go to bed at a reasonable time. They didn’t live together per se, but Grantaire lived closer to their university and it just made more sense for Enjolras to sleep over most nights (Enjolras’ idea. Grantaire still thinks he might die on the spot at being so close to him but apparently he had a stronger constitution than he’d thought). On those nights, the way Enjolras protectively kissed his cheek goodnight had the power to make Grantaire weak. How did he ever get this lucky?

Since the start of their relationship approximately three months ago, Grantaire had had his doubts. Of course he did, doubt was kind of his area after all. Enjolras was the sure one, the resolute and unwavering and steadfast one (Grantaire did own a Thesaurus), the one who always instinctively knew what was right and what was wrong. Even their getting-together was entirely due to Enjolras: While Grantaire had been pining away like a Victorian heroine, Enjolras had acted on his feelings (even though he might’ve been slow to recognize them for what they were) and had asked Grantaire out as a means of remedying the situation. The marble statue.  
Of course that last point had been so completely dismissed by now (see: the way Enjolras kisses Grantaire’s lips or shoulder or - God forbid - forehead so tenderly, the hundred small emotions that flicker in his eyes on an hourly basis, the disheveled way he looks when he’s just woken up, how cuddly he can be when he’s sleepy, etc. etc. etc.) but out of the two of them Grantaire would definitely have sorted himself into the ‘complete and total screw-up and mess’ category and Enjolras in the one marked ‘perfect, untouchable, literal angel’.

Until one day.

Grantaire came home from work at around midnight, to find Enjolras gulping coffee and typing with manic intensity and red-rimmed eyes. His long, blond hair was tied up in a messy bun, with stray strands spilled onto his neck and forehead. This wasn’t unusual in and of itself.

“Hey,” Grantaire said tiredly, leaning on the back of Enjolras’ desk chair.

Enjolras didn’t answer but tilted his head up to be kissed (R was only too happy to oblige) before resuming his work. It still made Grantaire dizzy that he was allowed to do that now.

“Maybe bed in an hour, hour and a half?” Grantaire suggested, absent-mindedly fixing Enjolras’ hair. “It’s getting late.”

“Sure,” Enjolras said distractedly, “Come and get me when it’s time?”

“Yeah sure. I’m going to go shower.”

Enjolras went ‘mhm.’ Grantaire laughed quietly and left the room to take a boiling hot and very much needed shower, read for a bit, and came back in pyjamas with avocados on them almost two hours later to find Enjolras still typing.

“Bed?” Grantaire asked. “How urgent is what you’re doing?”

Enjolras looked up properly and stopped typing. “It’s not due for a few more weeks, I just have a lot on my plate right now and really needed a head start.”

“Well, you got it,” Grantaire pointed out. “You made some good progress, maybe leave the rest for the weekend?”

Enjolras shook his head. “The demonstrations are on the weekend.” He rubbed his eyes, harder than necessary. “I’m never going to finish everything. I have about a billion things to do and exactly no time to do it in. I’m such a fucking failure. I should just stop existing or something.”

Grantaire crossed the room to rub his shoulders, helping him to his feet and guiding him into a chair at the kitchen table. Enjolras wasn’t the best with feelings and didn’t really know how to deal with his own let alone other people’s, but when Grantaire said things like that he always brought him a cup of tea. Grantaire could do that now, it was his turn. Enjolras deserved that much from him.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to comfort my boyfriend. You’re overtired and overworked, and severely under-sleeped.” Grantaire put the kettle on to boil and fetched a blanket to wrap around his boyfriend, before sitting down next to him and taking his hand.

“That’s not even a word,” Enjolras said through a yawn.

“And,” Grantaire continued, “You should absolutely, definitely, positively keep existing until at the very least the age of ninety-seven, but preferably longer. And, you are many things but a failure is in no way one of them.”

Enjolras burst into tears. “Sorry,” he said quickly, “I’m just tired, it’s been a hard day and it’s always been a stress reaction for me.”

“Don’t apologize,” Grantaire said softly, handing him a tissue. The kettle finished boiling so he made the pot of tea as quickly as possible and milk-and-sugared Enjolras’ cup the way he knew he liked it. He brought it over as soon as it was ready, and got the two of them settled a little more comfortably on the couch back in the living room.  
Grantaire didn’t ask Enjolras to talk about it, but Enjolras began to anyway in between sips of tea.

“You didn’t know me before I came out,” Enjolras started carefully, keeping his description short and to the point. “It…..it wasn’t a good time. Juggling class with the ABC while repressing all that for so long…. Most days it was hard enough to stop myself from walking into oncoming traffic. Sometimes it comes back.”

“I get it, Enjolras,” Grantaire said, not unkindly.

“I know you do.”

“So,” Grantaire said quietly, “We can help each other. You're not Sherlock Holmes, the brain without a heart. You can ask for help from time to time.” He wrapped an arm around Enjolras’ shoulders.

"So could you," Enjolras replied.

"It's just-" Grantaire sighed, "Even being severely depressed wasn't enough to make you cynical. Do you have any idea how much I admire you?"

"Shut up," Enjolras said gently. He stroked the back of Grantaire's hand with his thumb. 

They stayed quiet for a little bit, while Enjolras cried silently and finished his tea.

“I really hope this is decaf,” Enjolras said, eyeing the empty mug dubiously.

“So do I.”

Enjolras laughed a watery laugh, and Grantaire led him to the bedroom, flinging pyjamas at him and climbing into bed while Enjolras got dressed.

“I love you,” Grantaire said carefully. It was the first time either of them had said it. “Please don’t say anything, I know it’s out of the blue, I just wanted you to know how loved you are. You matter so much, I just needed you to know.”

And this time he was the one who tenderly kissed Enjolras’ cheek and jaw and lips and forehead until they both fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea in my head for a while and here it finally is!!
> 
> My reasoning for writing depressed / slightly suicidal Enjolras even though most ppl headcanon R that way:  
\- being the leader doesn't make him immune to mental illness  
\- he can't possibly be as naturally good and selfless as infatuated!R thinks he is  
\- he's a little too willing to die for the sake of the cause and to put himself in danger  
\- canon: "Our little lives don't count at all", "Some will fall and some will live will you stand up and take your chance?", "Let us die facing our foes" was his initial reaction rather than "maybe we can still win"  
\- most fanfics: E works to the point of not sleeping/eating and/or makes himself ill, puts the cause / other ppl's safety above his own and/or ends up getting hurt, refuses to ask for help, works obsessively as a coping mechanism  
\- I just see him as being an optimist where the world and progress is concerned and more of a pessimist when it comes to his own life and the possibility of it getting better 
> 
> Anyway if I'm not alone in this headcanon feel free to kudos/comment but no pressure <3 Also if you need help get some help. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!


End file.
